


Not enough

by Fxckmeyouresuchariot



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode: s15e18 Despair, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Spoilers for Episode: s15e18 Despair, not beta'd we die like gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fxckmeyouresuchariot/pseuds/Fxckmeyouresuchariot
Summary: Maybe you’re dying, your body relaxes for a fraction of a second. But that’s just wishful thinking and it’s been years since you have allowed such childish hopes.Only living could hurt this bad.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 18





	Not enough

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never posted in this site and my first time is short and pure angst but I couldn’t get it out of my head.  
> English is not my first language so if you find any mistakes let me know.  
> I’m sorry in advance.

Your chest hurts with the effort of inhaling, you’re not sure if you’re even breathing at all. Bewildered, your ears buzzing, incapable of thinking clearly. Your mind had always been an ocean, but now it’s drowning you; water flooding your eyes. When have you closed your eyes?

Maybe you’re dying, your body relaxes for a fraction of a second. But that’s just wishful thinking and it’s been years since you have allowed such childish hopes.

Only living could hurt this bad.

You force your eyes open, the room is empty. No trace of a battle except for the drying blood on the door.

Blood from his hands.

You try to inhale unsuccessfully, maybe he took all the air with him, all the life with him.

You look at your own hands. Not enough, incapable of holding him, empty. Your hands never had the strength to contain him. Never had the grace to find the right way, the gentle way to his face. Not to be laid over his firm back and hugh him tight. You should have held him tight; stretch your arms and grab him; stopped him from leaving you because now there’s nothing more than blinding pain and deafening silence. But your hands were frozen; and your lips could only mumble meaningless words, unimportant, not good enough.

You’ve never been enough. Tried all your life and never made it. However, he saw something there. You don’t understand what but it was enough to make a last sacrifice, to say a last goodbye that took all the air from your lungs.

You should have spoken more clearly. You should have screamed.

“I love you too” you think. Your heart breaks with the force of its own beating.

It took you so long to understand it. Or maybe not, maybe you always knew in some way. In every long stare, every pulsing pain and closing throat. You always knew. But you didn’t have the guts to say it, never been as brave as him. You couldn’t make yourself say those words. Just four fucking words…

Not enough.

Because what you feel is beyond four words, beyond everyone’s understanding. You don’t think anyone has ever felt a love like this, allconsuming love, everfilling love. A love that changes it all, that defies God, that defeats death.

But not even love has been enough.

Now you’re sitting in the cold floor. Tears burning your cheeks like acid drops, boiling streams that split your face. You cry harder than you’ve ever cried in your life, with your face hidden between your hands. Hands that never held his, that didn’t have the courage.

The phone rings next to you but your cold, numb, empty fingers don’t have the force to answer it. Your throat wouldn’t form the words and you’re afraid all you’d do is sob on the other side of the line. Is there anything else to do? It’s over.

The drying blood on your clothes sets fire to your skin. You hope that it does, that it burns and leaves a scar. Whatever it takes to hold onto him, to still have something of him. You want his hand scarred into your arm forever, something that could never leave you.

You close your eyes again and the dark overwhelms you, suffocates you. You feel like you’re dying. Wishful thinking, you know. Dying has never felt this lonely.

You wonder if he feels lonely, you can´t even know if he still feel at all. Still you wonder if he felt any pain at all; or if he calmly left knowing he said it, he was stronger and better than you once more.

Did he even know? It hurts to even think about it. You need to believe Castiel knew how much you loved him because otherwise your body is going to implode with anger.

You can’t move, or breathe, or even stop crying from just a minute. And it’s pointless now, it won’t chance anything.

But you say “I love you too”.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on longhairedgays.tumblr.com if you want someone to cry with.


End file.
